


The one time..he didn't run away.

by Rukiara



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 16:05:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6526861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rukiara/pseuds/Rukiara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One shot set just after "Idiots Lantern" inside the TARDIS. The Doctor catches a glimpse of Rose's room door...it's slightly ajar, what he sees inside makes him fall desperately inside himself, can he break down his walls enough to finally find some peace with Rose Tyler? Fluff and minor-minor angst. (not quite angst...not quite not..)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The one time..he didn't run away.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GroovyKat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GroovyKat/gifts).



> Groovykat immensely inspires me, she was grumbling at me for not updating A Rose That Never Wilted and suggest I do a quick one shot, gave me her idea and asked me to run with it. So I did.
> 
> Thank you so much for always inspiring me, encouraging me, and being there for me. <3

 

Rugged breath heaved in his chest as his feet padded down the hall. The coral glistened in the corner of his eye sympathetically as the weight of the world fell on his shoulders. How could he be so rash? Such an idiot? A big idiot. No! A colossal idiot! Astronomically idiotic! There were no words to describe the frustration swimming in his head. What if he hadn't got her back? What if he hadn't defeated the wire? What if he...the thought was a lump in his throat that he swallowed down. No, he'd do anything to get her back. Absolutely anything. She would always be safe with him...or would she?

 

His eyes peered up at the door before him, carved with an intricate thorned flower, he spoke it's name but he was not referring to the majestic decor before him. No his thoughts was on something much more breath taking.

 

“Rose...” he whispered, damn near inaudibly. Hooded eyes stared heavy at the dark oak frame. He traced his fingertips across the frame and shucked a piece off the edge, slightly frayed, and huffed. Slightly frayed like the edges of his heart or the hemming of his jacket; He should probably get that fixed, not that he had to do much, the TARDIS takes care of those things, usually. For some reason this jacket continued to have a slight imperfection on the bottom right, perhaps a reminder of the slight imperfections in himself. Slight? _Slight?_ Now that was an understatement if he ever heard one. He leaned his back against the side of the door, scuffing his chucks against the ground. The image of her face, missing, completely smoothed over, stolen, and fragmented inside the horrors of archaic technology. How could he let an over glorified monochromatic facsimile machine inhabited by an overzealous glutton of inferior species harm his beautiful Rose? What a git he was, and he knew it.

 

His eyes traced the shadows of the floor before him when he noticed a slit, an imperfection, in the casting of the shadows. His eyes wandered up to the culprit to notice the door to Rose's room. It was ajar. His hand reached up and scrubbed over his face before running through his hair, causing it to shutter and slick into a forbidden forest with no direction in which to grow, simply a chaotic mess like that within his mind. He sucked in a breath before, against his better judgment, he slowly eased the door to her room open. Just to...to make sure she was alright, right? Of course. That was it, then he'd turn on his heel and go back to his room. No reason to bother her, or cause her any sort of worry. She'd had enough stress for one day. That stress, was his fault. Leaving her alone like that...Oh but she was brilliant, oh so brilliant. He couldn't have done it without her, she figured it out, all without him. All her own. Gods, was she just absolutely brilliant, _fantastic_ even. He raised his gaze to the sleeping Rose on the other side of the room.

 

There was no way he could have prepared himself for what he saw.

 

He saw a small glimmer of light, blue, pulsing onto her face and causing her hair to glitter with the intensity of a birthing nebula, fighting for its place in the galaxy. It was a sight that was more enrapturing then the Untempered Schism itself, and if looked upon by lesser men could be driven mad. This, this was the first time the Doctor saw eternity. Eternity in the form of a human girl. Some, some are inspired. Some are driven mad, and others...well...others run away. In this moment he felt all of those. He felt driven mad with passion, and heat, boiling up inside of his chest and rising into his throat. He could roar, scream, he could make sounds that creatures across the universe could all interpret yet at the same time not understand. He was inspired. Inspired to be amazing, inspired to do more, inspired to be a better man..no..a better Time Lord...and...most of all. He wanted to run away. Run away from all these feelings, all these emotions and all these damned thoughts that swam in his head like worms, worms borrowing deep into the chasm of darkness where the only light is that in the form of a Rose safety behind its glass dome.

 

It was all very Beauty and the Beast, he thought.

 

Her eyes, though closed, he could picture them perfectly. Like the moonlight sonata or even the warm center of a baby planet being protected by a thin outer layer. So easy to breakthrough but so few can find the right tools to dig beneath the crust. He didn't know what overcame him then, but he felt his flawed and imperfect coat shuck off his shoulders and slip to the floor. His hands, shaking, sweaty, palms greased up in fear yet moving with a mind of their own. He unbuttoned the first insecurity binding this cloth cage while his mind raced.

 

Fear, regret, loathing, distaste, shame. Shame at the past, shame at the future, shame at every decision ever holding him back.

 

He tugged at the second insecurity.

 

Pain, struggle, death. So much death. Always around him, always surrounding him, like this damned jacket. Why did he wear two jackets anyways? It did make him look pretty cool, rather suave.

 

He fumbled with the third insecurity.

 

A wall. This one was harder. A brick wall that hid him away, that tucked him into a safe corner away from everyone and everything to ever enter his TARDIS. I suppose this goes hand-in-hand with his first insecurity, fear. But she was there, right there. He avoided her, pushed her away, held her hand, lectured her. Why in Rassilon's name would he lecture her for his own shortcomings?

 

The final button came undone as he tugged out one arm, then the other. This one he laid gently on the back of the chair at her desk. The desk was littered with papers of notes she'd written, trinkets he got her from different planets, pictures and personal affects. He glanced at himself in the mirror and furrowed his brow. He was a bit pretty, wasn't he? Was it to her liking? He quickly tugged at the buttons on his final layer and placed that over the other piece of clothing he already discarded.

 

He stared at himself, not quite naked but his chest bare and heaving. He swore he could see his two hearts pounding in his chest, trying to escape, trying to run to her. He turned to the side and stood straight up. A shuffling of blankets and he froze in his tracks. Glancing over at the lion-haired woman. A shiver went up his spine as the deep pink blanket slipped a bit off her, the form fitting nightie clinging to her sides. She was perfect, in every way, not just her body, mind you, but her entire being. The form that lay before him was more than just a human body, it was a story, a song, a sonnet.

 

He simply stared. His eyes locked onto every bit of her for moments, taking in the slight heave of her breast as shallow inhales caused her body to shudder. She murmured in her sleep, causing him to squint as if that would help his superior Time Lord hearing make out what she said. Alas, to no avail, the moment was lost and a sigh escaped his pursed lips.

 

Lightly toeing off his shoes it was only now, as he reached to unbutton his trousers that he paused in terror at his actions. What in all the multiverse was he doing?! What could possibly go through his mind to make this okay? He turned quickly and reached to grab the rest of his clothes and scurry towards the door, his haste was his undoing as the chair tipped over and clattered to the floor. He cursed in a whimsical language to himself when he heard a small voice behind him.

 

“Doctor?”

 

He was bust, completely, utterly. She will want to go home now, she will want to leave him forever. What was his plan, anyways? What stupid, monumental, idiotic, crazed decision had he come up with?

 

“S-sorry.” he blundered out. “Wrong room.” Oh right, like she's going to believe that.

 

“Wait.” the voice was treacherous, and like he was under some sort of mind control he froze in place. Not daring to turn around, yet he had invaded her space he at least owed her some sort of explanation or...or...

 

“Just on my way out, TARDIS, changing around the corridors and all that.” Oh another brilliant lie, what a calamity he's caused here.

 

“Don't go.” the petite voice finally hit his ear causing him to turn now, had he heard what he thought he did? “I mean..please...if'n..you don't want too, that is. I mean, it's okay, if you would sit with me a bit?” He glanced up at her, she was sitting up now, wringing the edge of the blanket as if it had too much water in it. She looked scared, pale, timid, terrified. Terrified of what? Him? She should never be afraid of him, no, not that.

 

“Rose, please.” he pleaded, obviously her uncertainty of what he meant cause an immediate misunderstanding.

 

“Right..sorry ya, bad idea.” she turned to tug the blanket further around her. Oh for the love of Rassilon...he had spoken from his mind and not in sequence of the conversation laid out before him. He had two choices, run, run and pretend it never happened or go to her. He would run. Right, all would be forgiven in the morning. Not a care in the world.

 

Even as he made that decision his eyes caught the small blue glow on her face again, it looked...it looked strained, disappointed, filled with sorrow that he had only ever seen once before, in his own reflection. In his own suffering. Oh, he could never put her through that..not Rose. Not when he came so far. He dropped his clothing in hand and rushed to her side, sitting at the edge of the bed.

 

“Oh Rose.” he reached for her instinctively. One hand laid gently on her leg the other pulled up to the back of her head as his eyes looked deep into hers, looking for some sign of what to do. “That's not what I meant at all.” Was she..crying? Bleary eyed, and red nosed she looked up at him. It was as if she couldn't hold it in anymore. The dam broke.

 

“Oh Doctor!” she threw herself into his chest tossing him back a bit before he caught himself, arms wrapping around her body as he felt a quick, short sob release from her. Did he cause this? Or was she upset over the events that happened earlier that day? Either way, that, too, was his fault. Oh, if his two hearts could break any further.

 

“Shh..” he cooed to her, gently rubbing the small of her back and clutching her closely to his bare chest. Her head shifted to the center, where he felt her ear cup into the crest just between his two hearts. She was..listening to them? “I'm sorry.” he choked out finally, holding her closer. He swore he was crushing her, but she didn't move. Not until her hand slowly traced up his chest and rested on his shoulder. His breathing stopped, uncertain of what to do he stiffened. Slowly, painfully slow, she moved away from him and peered up into his face, looking for comfort, for reassurance, two things he was all to eager to give her.

 

“Well...” he cleared his throat, moving his hand from behind her to cup her face and brush a tear off with his thumb. “Most definitely not what I was expecting. Not at all.” he nodded, half heartedly as his eyes darted about the room.

 

“What were you expecting, Doctor?” her voice was husky, air releasing from her lips and tickling his neck as she drew closer to him, nuzzling her nose under his chin and resting against him.

 

“I..uh..” he squeaked and once again cleared his throat, uncertain of the answer himself. “Honestly I don't know..” he resorted to simply holding her. The touch of her skin was tantalizing at worst, yet in its own way a sweet release to the distance he usually felt. It was all too soon when she pulled away, tugging herself away from him with her hands, scooting back on the bed. He could have sat like that for all of his lives. His surprise wrinkled his face clearly causing her to giggle. She slipped back under the covers, and laid facing away from the empty side of the bed. He watched her hand intently as it moved the covers behind her and patted the bed.

 

“There's an empty spot, if ya like..since you can't seem to find your own room, n' all.” she teased, the delicate pink color slipping in between the whites of her teeth and the deep color of her lips. He scoffed and smiled back, a sigh releasing from him. One of relief.

 

The Doctor stood, and let his trousers slip to the floor as he stepped out of them, walking to the other side of the bed and slipping in behind her. He stared at her back for a moment, a bit of trepidation found its way into his movements, she must have sensed that. She seemed to read him like a Dr. Suess book-One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish-as her arm reached back and clutched at his wrist, guiding it over the curvature of her body. He slipped closer and wrapped the arm around her before tugging her into him. His other arm he pulled in a position to play with her hair. Seemed like an odd thing to do, one would think, but it brought him so much joy to run his fingers through the golden strands, as if they were woven by Rumpelstiltskin himself, though even he could not dream of creating such fine and perfect strands. He leaned in and took in her scent, honey and lilac. Vanilla, and just a bit of time. Traveling with him has really taken its affect on her, but it soothed him greatly. She shuddered as he inhaled, and he realized the goosebumps on her skin, it took him a bit longer than it should have to realize that she wasn't cold.

 

So he took a chance. He pulled himself up slightly and pushed her shoulder down so she lay on her back, shifting his opposite arm to the other side of her. Then, and for the first time, he stared into her eyes without fear of being caught, without fear of lingering too long. He could stare as long as he wanted, and she would simply stare back, the slight dimples in her cheeks of that incredible smile pulsing through his body. The blush that was forming in her cheeks, the peach colorization that painted her skin in such a perfect manner. The soul, the beautiful mind that lay behind it. The brilliant, brilliant woman bursting to be free from behind such young eyes yet full of such luster, such wonder, such incredible knowledge. She was so much smarter than she gave herself credit for, perhaps, he thought, at times even with his vast knowledge and eons of experience, that she was even smarter than him.

 

“Doctor...” she piped out shyly, perhaps a bit too long of him simply staring at her, he thought. “Everything okay?” her voice was barely a whisper.

 

“Yes,” the second word was lost to her, as it sounded like christmas bells and something quite soothing, whimsical. She wasn't sure why, but the word made her almost want to cry, to hug him and kiss him and thank him. The sensation was odd, and she pushed it aside. He seemed not to notice the slip. “Everything is brilliant. Just...simply...brilliant.”

 

She smiled at the tone of his voice, it made her feel so at home, so relaxed, she cupped his cheek before running her hand over his neck and resting it on his shoulder once again. The tension between them was thick, but sweet. You could almost taste the anticipation and devotion, and oh. He couldn't get enough of it. His hand gently traced her collar bone, drew circles on her skin in such an artful fashion it seemed he was writing something. Fingertips teasing her neck before outlining her lips. She smiled in slight embarrassment as she quickly kissed his fingers, he simply watched then drew them to his own lips, as if to place the kiss directly onto his own mouth. She gave out a small happy squeal before he lowered himself down, shifting his body so his head fit perfectly between her breasts. He listened to her single heartbeat and closed his eyes, his breath traveling over the crest of body, causing an excited tremble. He listened intently, as the last shudder was that of the happiest sigh he was certain he had ever heard from one Rose Tyler.

 

He wasn't sure what overcame him.

 

But he was quite happy it had.

 

With that, he fell asleep, for the first time, in a long time, to the sensation of her slender fingers running through his hair.

 

Though every bit of his being begged to stay awake, for all eternity in this moment, so he could listen to the rise and fall of her heartbeat like a crescendo of crashing waves, the hum of a flute or the strum of a guitar with every intricate note simply begging _“Listen to me” “Hear me”_ he could not help but hear the hidden phrase in between the milliseconds of silence that pleaded for _him_ to hear, that pleaded for _him_ to understand, the one thing that Rose has tried to tell him forever that he thought were only words before but now he heard it in the fiber of her being, within the growth of every cell, within the warmth of her skin. The words sang to him in his home language, like a melody, a lullaby, a love story.

 

“ _How long are you going to stay with me?”_

 

“ _Forever.”_

 

 


End file.
